


And Then There Were Two

by Rixtide



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Breakfast Shenanigans, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Depression, Difficult Decisions, Distress, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flirtatious Gestures, Fluff and Angst, GAYYYYYYYY, Gay, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marvel Universe, Mental Illness, Moving In Together, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Suicide, Romance, Sad, Science, Science Bros, Self Harm, Sleep Deprivation, Slow Build, Slow Burn, So do I, Spoilers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Stucky - Freeform, They all need hugs, Tony Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, cute moments, fluffy fluff, lots of flirting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-04-30 03:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14487846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rixtide/pseuds/Rixtide
Summary: *WARNING* Infinity War SpoilersA year after the war, Steve Rogers has not yet come to terms with the death of Bucky Barnes. Steve's self-destructive tendencies lead him down a dangerous road. He will have to face his deepest struggles with love and loss, and he may get to reunite with his best friend, but at what cost? The perfect balance of fluff and angst.***I'm so sorry I never finished this, rip***





	1. The World Has Changed

There was a small part of Steve that wished he had never met Bucky at all. Maybe that way, he would not have to suffer through such loss. It was selfish, but at this point he only wanted the pain to be gone.

Steve sat alone at his kitchen table. A single bulb buzzed and flickered just above his head, making his tiny studio apartment seem even more desolate. He couldn’t remember what time the clock read last time he checked it, but he knew that the sun would probably be rising soon. He didn’t even try to sleep anymore. He couldn’t ever manage to drift off, and laying in the dark was painful. It brought about too many memories. Maybe it was actually the quiet that bothered him most. He had no neighbors for background noise anymore. More than half of his apartment complex had been emptied after Thanos’ genocide a year ago. The constant whooshing and whizzing of cars down below had been reduced to an occasional grumble of an engine. The city was a skeleton of what it used to be. A growing number of storefronts and houses were being boarded up. Fifteen-story buildings that used to glow with life late into the night now loomed in darkness, hollowed and ominous. Most of the population was moving to what they called the ‘supercities’. People were concentrating in some of the structurally larger cities around the U.S. to cope with the sudden population drop. Humans don’t like feeling alone. Most tried to stay resistant to change, so they flocked to the supercities to get a taste of the old days, where the streets and buildings were lively and less apocalyptic.

Steve, however, decided to stay. Rather, he didn’t have the heart to leave his dingy little apartment. In a world where familiarity had become a scarce resource, his apartment was the only thing he had left.

He sat there at his little metal dining table and stared at his hands. His eyes grazed along the scars from the war that ran up and down his fingers and knuckles. His mind felt like it was spinning, and his chest felt heavy. He wanted so badly to do something, anything, that could distract him from this numbness, but he knew nothing could. There were books scattered across his floor that he had tried to read. He would start a paragraph and lose focus a few sentences in, and after several attempts of starting again and failing, he always gave up on the book completely. Nothing seemed to capture his attention like it used to. He felt sick. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. His fridge was bare because he never felt like going out to the store. His laundry was stacked on the bed he never used anymore. Whenever he did nap, it was always on the old brown couch that was too short for him to lay on without curling up and twisting his legs at an odd angle. For the first few months he left his radio on all day and all night, just to soothe his mind, but since most of the radio stations outside of the supercities began shutting down, there was nothing but static anymore, and even silence was better than static.

“Steve.”

Steve jerked around so quickly that his folding chair made a horrid screeching sound against the wooden floor. His apartment was empty. He scanned the room over and over with wide eyes. He knew he heard his name, but there was no one there. He walked to the door and peered through the peep hole before yanking it open to find that the hallway, too, was empty. He checked in his bathroom, even pulling back the shower curtain, and finally concluded that it must have just been in his head. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe he had indeed started to doze off at the table. Dream or no dream, why did it have to be _his_ voice that Steve heard calling his name? He felt pain grip his heart, but he savored the sound of _his_ voice while it lasted. It was longing, yet warm and gentle. Steve closed his eyes and imagined hearing it again, this time turning not to an empty apartment, but to Bucky. He imagined crossing the room and sinking into his arms. He imagined the feelings of comfort and familiarity and relief to see his best friend. He felt tears come to his eyes, and he opened them to shake the thoughts. Those kinds of fantasies only led to more misery, so Steve forced them out of his head once again.

The couch, as uncomfortable as it was, looked incredibly welcoming at the moment, but Steve turned instead to the kitchen and set a fresh pot of coffee to brew. The sun was starting to turn the sky a soft pinkish color, so it wouldn’t do any good trying to sleep now.

  


* * *

  


“STEVE.”

Steve jumped so hard he slopped coffee all over the floor, and some of it splashed onto his wrist, burning his skin. He winced and angrily set the mug on the counter, shaking the coffee off of his hand and spinning to scan the apartment all in one swift motion. He was still alone, and he knew it.

“Buck?” he shouted desperately, being met only with silence.

He felt foolish, imagining what someone might think if they saw him talking to a person who wasn’t there. But at the same time, he knew this time for sure it wasn’t just in his head. It sounded so real, and he wasn’t at all dreaming.

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he swirled around again.

No one. Nothing. There was nothing there.

His mind began to collapse inward on itself. He felt so sure that Bucky was there, yet he wasn’t. He remembered the day of the genocide. He remembered looking to Bucky, seeing him there, only a few feet away. He remembered seeing him crumble into ash and dust. Steve screamed and knelt down to touch the ground where Bucky had been only a moment ago. He felt the cold wood floor under his fingertips, and he returned to his senses, though still feeling dazed and full of fear. Steve crossed his arms over his chest, and rubbed his shoulder where he had felt Bucky’s hand, and he gripped the sleeves of his shirt. His body went weak and his hip hit the ground with a dull thud. He shrunk against the wall and let out a spluttering cough. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried, but suddenly the numbness lifted, and there were tears streaming down his cheeks. He huffed and choked a bit, and he gripped his sleeves tighter. His hands were sweating and his body began to shake. Bucky’s face flashed into his mind again, and Steve became hyperaware of his aloneness. The room felt smaller, quieter, and his lungs struggled to find air. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, crying and shaking and gasping, but it felt like it would never end.

Steve thought to the drawer beside the oven. It was empty, save for the bottle of pills a government doctor had prescribed to him for god knows what a few weeks after the genocide. He had stashed them away months ago, ashamed of the possibility of needing them. So there they sat, but now they almost called to him. He wiped his face and sat up, finally able to take a semi-deep breath. He drug himself to the drawer and opened it, feeling around with his hand until he found the bottle. It was difficult to make out the words on the label because Steve’s eyes were tired and blurry from crying, but he was able to read the bold print near the bottom: “take 1 pill daily as needed for insomnia”.

Bucky’s voice washed over him one last time.

“Not today, Steve.”


	2. Assemble

Steve laid with his back on the floor as the bottle slipped out of his hand beside him. He stayed there, staring at the ceiling. All of the thoughts in his head were swarming and incomprehensible. He took more deep breaths, feeling his eyes grow heavier and heavier from the salty tears.

Then something odd happened. The last person Steve would expect to be thinking about in a moment like this came to mind. Tony Stark, too, lost everything. Despite all they had been through, the two of them had still not spoken since their fallout after the accords. Perhaps Steve had been the selfish one, rushing away to his apartment to live alone instead of staying at headquarters with the other surviving Avengers. Steve learned from Natasha that Tony lost Peter. She couldn’t give details because Tony refused to talk about it with anyone. At first, Steve was angry at Tony for bringing such a young boy into all of this. However, Steve thought back to his own teenage years, faking birth certificates to try and join the army. He would have done anything to join the fight, and maybe Peter Parker hadn’t been much different. Steve got the impression that Tony felt like a father figure for Peter, but even more painful had to have been the loss of Pepper. Steve remembered Natasha’s voice cracking over the phone when she told him that Tony and Pepper were planning on getting married before the genocide. If anyone knew what Steve was feeling, it was Tony.

He made up his mind. If he stayed here, he wouldn’t be able to say no to that bottle of pills a second time. He was going.

 

* * *

 

Steve tossed his duffel bag into the passenger seat before climbing into his old pickup. It was quite a drive to the Avengers HQ, but there was no going back now.

The roads were nearly empty until he started to approach the first supercity. His stomach tightened as he passed through. The city looked so alive, so different from what he had grown used to. He could understand now why people wanted to be here. Here, it felt like nothing ever changed.

Steve passed through several more supercities that day, and it wasn’t until early the next morning that he arrived at the headquarters. He gave Nat a call about an hour ago, so she was waiting for him outside.

“Steve,” she stepped forward to hug him when he climbed out of his truck, “you look like hell, but then again we all do.”

Steve gave a half-hearted smile and swung his duffle bag over his shoulder, “it’s good to see you too, Nat. Does Tony know I’m here?”

“No one does yet.”

Natasha led Steve inside. They took the elevator up and maneuvered through several hallways until they arrived at a pale blue door.

“You can stay in here,” Natasha told him, “Thor is to your left, and I’m right across the hall. The others are just around the corner. If you ever need Banner, you won’t find him in his room. He pretty well lives in the lab downstairs.”

Steve nodded, glancing at Thor’s door. Natasha hadn’t told him much about any of them, but she did mention that Thor had become withdrawn. She said he hardly ever came out of his room, and when he did, he rarely said anything.

“Thanks, Nat,” Steve said.

“I’ll be downstairs, it might be best I let Tony know you’re here before he finds out on his own.”

 

Steve’s room was nice. It looked as though he was the first person to ever stay here, and it was about three times the size of his apartment back home. He set his duffel bag on a chair by the desk and sat on the edge of the queen-size bed by the window. The view was spectacular. A vast green lawn stretched out below, and trees lined the borders of the lot. In the distance he could see the heart of New York, the nearest supercity. The feeling of isolation was starting to melt away already. Steve was glad he came. He just hoped that everyone else would be too.

It was time.

 

* * *

 

It took Steve a while, but he finally found the lab. He hoped he would find Tony here along with Bruce. As he approached, he saw the lab in its entirety through the glass walls. Nat said Bruce was practically living in there, and it showed. The whole space looked completely wrecked. Papers and blueprints were scattered across the walls and floors. Empty and half-full coffee mugs, metal scraps, wires, tools, and more tech that Steve didn’t recognize covered almost every countertop.

Steve froze for a moment when Tony stepped out from behind a machine. He was in full conversation with someone standing outside of Steve’s view, or maybe just with himself. He waved his hands around and rubbed his face, seemingly frustrated. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to….

Tony turned and made eye contact with him, and his arms dropped to his side. Steve walked slowly through the automatic doors into the lab, trying to gauge Tony’s response to him being here. He was hard to read. His eyes glinted dangerously, but his body seemed at ease.

Steve decided to break the silence first, and he spoke slowly, in a low voice.

“Tony...”

Bruce came around the corner, looking at Steve in disbelief.

Tony stood still, looking as if he had so much to say, but also like he wasn’t sure where to start.

“It’s good to see you, Cap,” he said in a voice that sounded ever-so-slightly sad and fragile. There were many things that Steve had prepared himself to hear in this moment, but those words caught him completely off-guard. Tony’s eyes dropped to the ground a moment before he spun back around to his work. He lifted his arms and opened his mouth, trying to return to the project at hand, but then he hesitated and turned back to Steve. Banner stood open-mouthed in the background, waiting for something to happen.

Tony finally spoke again. “Steve, I…” he paused, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about Barnes. I know he meant a lot to you.”

Steve drew a sharp breath in at that name. After months of picturing the day he finally confronted Tony again, after imagining countless hostile conversations, after preparing himself to try and de-escalate Tony’s anger, he never once thought that this is how it would start.

He stammered a bit, trying to find words. “No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry about Peter. I’m sorry about Pepper…” Tony flinched, “I’m sorry that I left you.”

Tony’s shoulders fell a little. He seemed saddened, but also comforted by those words. It seemed to Steve that, in his absence, Tony had also realized their loss was one in the same. He stepped forward and they embraced. Steve curled his fingertips and held on tight. He had become so used to being alone that it felt more comfortable than returning to his friends, but this… this was so much better.

Bruce also crossed the room to hug Steve.

“I’m supposed to be the one to disappear and live in isolation. You had us all worried,” he said with a relieved smile.

When Natasha told him earlier that everyone looked like hell, she wasn’t kidding. Tony’s face was sunken, and his eyes were bloodshot. Banner’s whole appearance was disheveled, and he looked too thin and dangerously close to collapsing from exhaustion. Steve fit right in.

 

He pulled up a stool and watched Tony and Bruce return to their work. Between tasks and trials, they would ask Steve questions about his life in the last year. He felt awfully dull and useless, having not been around in that time, but they seemed to listen without judgement, and it felt good to talk with them again. He got a brief urge to tell them about the events from two nights ago. He wondered if they had some scientific explanation for him hearing Bucky’s voice rather than hallucinations or sleep deprivation. But now didn’t seem like the right time to bring it up, so he didn’t.

He felt a stab in his heart remembering Bucky’s voice again, but he quickly forced the thought out of his mind before it had the chance to consume him.

“So what are you working on?” Steve asked, trying to bring his focus back to the present.

“Cap,” said Bruce, “we’ve got a lot to tell you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and comments if you are enjoying it so far! I have so many big plans for this fic, and I'm so excited to delve in deeper.


	3. Insomnia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a short chapter, but don't fret. There will be more soon!

Whatever thoughts he forced out of his head earlier had now come back full force. Steve laid in his bed, exhausted yet still unable to rest. He used to believe in justice, in fighting back. Now it all seemed childish. Bruce and Tony were working on a weapon to kill Thanos, if that was even possible. Steve could hardly recall most of the specifics of what Bruce said earlier. All he knew is that this was not justice. This was suicide. As he lay alone, his mind wandered back to the bottle of pills in his apartment. Would that not be easier? He cursed himself for ever leaving. Now he had to fight. Now there were others counting on him sticking around.

Suddenly, Steve felt as if he was not alone in the room. He sat up. The light from the moon was illuminating the space just enough so that it was easy to see.

His heart stopped.

In the corner, half shrouded by shadows, stood Bucky. Steve impulsively tried to drink in every aspect of him. His hair was long, maybe an inch or so longer than when he saw him last. Steve felt a lump forming in his throat. Bucky didn’t speak, he only stood there, unmoving, watching Steve with gentle eyes. Steve felt a longing stronger than ever, but he bit back his tongue, feeling a pain rise in his chest.

“You’re not real,” Steve said quietly. It hurt him to say that. He wanted so badly to believe he was real, and that he was here. He wanted to jump out of the bed, to hug him, to hold him, but he could not. He knew that falling for the illusion would only make it hurt more.

“Save us,” Bucky’s voice was sudden, contorted and pained.

Steve swung his legs over the edge of the bed and began to stand. Bucky’s head snapped from side to side, and his face turned to agony. Steve rushed to him, reaching out, desperately wanting to stop his pain. He reached out, and Bucky stretched a hand out to meet his. Just as Steve’s hand closed around Bucky’s, it crumbled to dust and ashes along with the rest of him.

Steve stood for a moment in shock before falling to his knees and running his hand over the floor, searching for some remnant, some proof of Bucky’s physical existence, but there was nothing. He felt frustration and grief and anger and a dozen other things he couldn’t name. Tears welled in his eyes, but he looked up to prevent them from falling. Bucky Barnes was gone, crying would not bring him back. But the words echoed in Steve’s head again: _save us._ Surely it was a dream or lack of sleep or a new stage of grief or something logical. He had seen aliens and monsters and madmen, but he didn’t believe in ghosts.

Steve stood and moved slowly back to his bed where he curled up and looked at the supercity glowing in the distance. The people in the cities he drove through made it look so easy to move on. Surely most of the people on earth had experienced some degree of loss after the genocide, yet here they were, building new communities and thriving. _The world goes on._ Maybe that saying applied, but Steve refused to accept that the world was better off with such tremendous grief present in the hearts of its people. This was no way to live. Steve rolled over and shut his eyes, every ounce of him wishing sleep would come to give him a break from this pain. To his surprise, he felt himself beginning to drift rather quickly, but just before he did, he thought again to Bucky’s words. Steve wanted to accept that everyone was dead and that that was it – if for nothing else than the sake of being able to move on – but something about that didn’t feel right. Maybe it didn’t have to be explained by science, but Steve could feel in his gut that there was more to it than half of the population simply ceasing to exist…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooOOooooo what's happening??? 
> 
> Pretty please leave comments and kudos <3 The feedback keeps my motivation up!


	4. A Plan

“Steve. Steve, wake up. Steve!”

Steve jolted and swung at Natasha so hard that he probably would have broken bones if she hadn’t moved to the side and caught his wrist with astounding reflexes. Steve sat up as she released his arm.

Steve rubbed his eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry. I was dreaming that-” Bucky’s face flashed through his mind, his dark hair short and slicked back, his military uniform freshly pressed, and his smile devious, “…nevermind.”

Natasha wasted no time, “Well get up. Meet us in the lab in five. It’s… you’ll see, just hurry.”

She moved quickly, and before he knew it, she was gone. He changed into day clothes and took a few seconds to comb his hair back before jogging down the hall to the stairs. No time to wait for the elevator, Nat sounded borderline hysterical.

When he entered the lab, Tony and Bruce turned to him, looking more exhausted than yesterday. But today there was something in their faces that showed hope and excitement.

“We found them,” Bruce said.

“Who?” Steve asked.

“All of them,” Tony stepped forward and handed Steve a glass tablet with some kind of… map? Or thermal signatures? He didn’t know what he was looking at, but he didn’t care. If he understood Tony correctly… that meant-

“Bucky?” it slipped out of Steve’s mouth. “-and the rest?” he added quickly.

“From what we can tell, everyone is there. I mean, we’re not exactly sure yet, but it looks promising.” Bruce pointed to the tablet in Steve’s hands, but then seemed to realize that Steve couldn’t follow just from the image.

“Where? How?” Steve’s mind was being flooded with questions.

“Over here, big boy.” Tony waved Steve over to see a half circle of holographic screens with a web of documents displayed as if they were pinned up on a cork board. “These are Shuri’s notes on interdimensional workings. Bruce and I were scanning through them for months, looking for something to help us trap Thanos in a pocket dimension. We figured the cost might be too great to attempt killing him just yet, but if we could strip him of the gauntlet and trap him in one of these pocket dimensions, it could, at the very least, buy us some time to figure out a better plan.”

“A pocket dimension?” Steve asked.

“The perfect miserable jail cell for the purple bastard. He’d be frozen in time and space in a dimension existing completely outside of our own. Convenient, I know.”

Steve felt overwhelmed with information, and wondered if all of this was really possible, but then again his whole perception of reality had been shattered in the last few years anyway.

Bruce stepped in. “When we were using Shuri’s research to create a portal, we started picking up strange readings. Nothing should exist in these pocket dimensions, but we started getting signs of life from one pocket. A lot of life, about 3.5 billion people.”

“So you’re saying that Thanos didn’t kill all of those people?” Steve felt his chest tighten.

“At this point, we aren’t completely sure, but we think maybe Thanos permanently hid them away rather than executing them. Maybe he did it to spare himself the guilt, and with having all of the stones, it’s entirely possible.”

Steve took a deep breath, “and what if it’s not-”

“We won’t know until we try, Cap.” Tony looked at Steve with a pained face. “We _have_ to try.”

Pepper. Steve knew what Tony felt, because he felt it too: the hope, the fear, the desperation, all of it.

They went on to describe the plan to Steve. They were going to open the portal using methods derived from Shuri’s research. Then Tony would send a suit specially programmed to function without a connection to his server through the portal to assess and, if possible, retrieve. They would retrieve those essential to the Thanos mission first.

“And what about the rest?” Steve asked.

Bruce and Tony exchanged a glance, like they knew this question was coming, but also like they knew they would have to answer it very carefully.

Bruce spoke in a calm voice, “The world has been living on for a year now, creating new systems to accommodate less people. If we bring everyone back all at once, it could be catastrophic. We want to deal with Thanos first. Then we can find some better way to slowly and safely bring everyone back home.”

Steve opened his mouth to object, but he didn’t actually have anything to object to. Brue was right. Bringing everyone back wouldn’t be a simple task, and maybe this way at least half of the population was guaranteed safety while they dealt with Thanos.

“Ok.” Steve said.

Tony looked shocked, and he hesitated. “…Ok. Ok, good, great. That was easy.” He lifted his hands in a celebratory manner and then turned back to the screens behind him.

Bruce told Steve that they just needed a few hours to ready the portal, and that they would call him down as soon as they were prepared.

As Steve walked down the hall, he felt his brain buzzing with all sorts of different thoughts and emotions. Most of all, though, he thought of the very real possibility of seeing Bucky again. He imagined embracing him. Oh god, his chest hurt just thinking about it. He’d felt so much grief after losing Bucky the first time, and the second time felt so much worse, but now he could have him back. In the depths of his mind, he feared that he was letting himself build too much hope. There was still a huge chance that this couldn’t work, or that it wasn’t the people of earth in that pocket dimension. His head started to throb. He wanted to let himself believe, but he also wanted to be careful for the sake of his sanity.

He turned the corner after stepping out of the elevator and jumped a little when he saw Thor and Nat standing in the hallway. They both stopped mid-conversation and looked up at Steve as if they weren’t expecting anyone.

Thor looked terrible. He didn’t even look like Thor anymore. His face was sunken, and his body looked incredibly frail. His eyes were clouded with grief, and his hands shook.

“Steve,” he said in a weak voice. “I didn’t know you were coming back.”

Steve crossed the hallway as quickly as he could, and he wrapped Thor into a gigantic hug. Something about seeing him again made Steve feel like everything was going to be ok. Thor held on for several seconds before stepping back and looking at his friend with a sad smile.

Steve spoke, “I’m sorry I left for so long. I was just lost, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

“None of us do,” Thor replied before trailing off.

Nat cleared her throat, “I was just about to fill him in on everything.” She seemed to be implying that she needed more time with Thor, so Steve awkwardly excused himself and told Thor he hoped to see him around more.

Steve was completely unsure how to pass the time until Bruce and Tony had the portal ready. He felt useless to them, and he hated that feeling. He was starting to realize how exhausted he still was from the general lack of sleep lately, and he figured it might not hurt to lay down and pray that he could nap.

As he lay there, he could almost feel an arm reach over to hold him. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander again to memories of Bucky’s warm laugh and long nights spent talking and drinking with him seventy-some years ago. He let the darkness swallow him up as he drifted away to peaceful dreams of his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want them to be happyyyyyyyy. (I saw infinity war again today and I cry)
> 
> This chapter was so science-y and tiring to write. I just want to write fluff. Maybe you'll get some soon... maybe.
> 
> Please leave comments! :)


	5. An Impossible Feat

The moment that Bucky stepped through the portal, Steve felt his legs turn weak. Time seemed to slow down drastically, and he saw his best friend there in front of him. He suddenly felt as though he was dreaming. His head felt light and the his surroundings faded into a soft haze. Bucky was the first to come through. Steve held his arms out, feeling a lump rise in his throat. Bucky stood rigid and looked back at him, but his eyes were glassy and emotionless. The haziness cleared and reality hit Steve again like a ton of bricks. Something was wrong. Tony let out a holler, and there was a low _boom_ that reverberated through the lab.

“CLOSE IT!” Bruce screamed. The room was shaking. Friday’s voice was shouting something through the speakers in ceiling, but it became lost in the sounds of rumbling and shattering. Steve was lurched to the side. Had he not grabbed onto the nearby counter, he probably would have fallen. He looked up to see Bucky, still staring blankly ahead. It seemed completely impossible to stand still with the earth rippling so violently, and Bucky’s motionlessness sent an eerie chill down Steve’s spine. He looked to the others in the room and saw Tony launch himself toward the panel that controlled the portal. A flash of light blinded Steve momentarily, and then everything ceased all at once. The ground was still, and the room went dead quiet. For a moment, no one moved, as if to make sure that it was safe. Bruce and Thor looked panicked, and Tony looked frustrated.

He mumbled something inaudible before repeating himself in a louder voice, “we had everything right, down to the last detail. I… I don’t understand.” He grabbed one of his glass tablets off of the counter beside him. He looked for a moment as though he wanted to throw it across the room and watch it into a million pieces.

“It was unstable,” Bruce spoke. He was always good at using a calm voice, even when he himself was anything but. Tony looked at him with bloodshot eyes.

“We need to check the system and then run it again,” Tony said before whirling around and raising his hand, “Friday-”

“Tony.” Bruce stopped him, “We already double… triple checked everything. Even in Shuri’s notes, this whole idea seemed like a stretch, highly improbable. The stability of the portal was always our biggest fear. Even with all the science and knowledge we have, it could just be...”

“HE got through,” Tony pointed aggressively at Bucky, “ that means it was successful. If we could just maintain the- fuck” he picked a shard of glass out of his arm, “if we could maintain the integrity of the portal for a few minutes longer.” Tony turned again and walked to the control panel. There was a look in his eyes that scared Steve. He knew that look. It was the look of fear and desperation.

“Tony, I’m not saying we should give up, I’m just cautioning you. This might be an impossible feat, we knew that going in. I don’t want you to drive yourself crazy,” Bruce said.

Tony spoke in an unsteady voice, “That’s bullshit. That’s bullshit! I’m smarter than this hunk of...” He slammed his hand against the panel, which had thankfully been disabled. Steve watched as Tony’s legs buckled beneath him and he shrunk to the floor with his face in his hands.

“Pepper… Peter… I’m sorry.”

Tony had always been the one to take charge. Sure, maybe sometimes he was grandiose and a little nonsensical, but Steve had never seen him crack like this. He was always the strong one, the one to take the lead even in the most hopeless situations.

Bruce stepped forward to place a gentle hand on Tony’s shoulder without saying anything more.

Steve turned to Bucky, who still stood motionless.

“Buck?” His heart was pounding.

Bucky didn’t reply, but his eyes dropped to the floor.

“He might need some medical attention,” Bruce said. He walked now to Steve, giving him a reassuring look and whispering, “I’ll do everything I can, Steve, he’s going to be alright.”

Bruce slowly and cautiously approached Bucky.

“Bucky, would you come with me?”

He flinched a little when Bruce spoke to him, but after hesitating, he took a slow step and let Bruce guide him away. Steve knew he should probably give them space, as not to overwhelm Bucky. Who knew what mental state he was in. He turned to see that Natasha had crouched beside Tony and was speaking to him in a low voice. Steve’s impulses got the best of him, and he left the room to follow Bucky and Banner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always a sucker for writing Bucky in fragile states...
> 
> Please leave me comments! I've had a shit day, and hearing from you guys always makes me really happy, even if I'm not able to to reply right away.


	6. After The Storm

Bucky looked like a ghost, moving slowly only when prompted and keeping his head down. In fact, he looked quite awful. Steve noticed the way his right shoulder looked significantly more frail than his metal one. His shoulder blades protruded through his shirt, and his body looked smaller and thinner than he remembered. He no longer held the posture of a soldier, but rather he stood as though he was anticipating being struck.

Bruce motioned Bucky into a room with a large desk and chairs. It looked so professional, and the plaque on the door read “Dr. Chavez”.

“We’ll use this office for now, just so we can talk and so that I can check your vitals,” Bruce said in a soothing voice to Bucky.

Steve forgot that the headquarters used to be a fully-staffed, multi-functional facility. He wondered what kind of doctor Dr. Chavez was. He wondered if he or she was even still alive. He made a gesture to Bruce indicating he would wait outside.

He waited for about fifteen minutes before the door opened again, and Bucky stepped out before Bruce.

“I can show you to your room if you’d like. We can get you some fresh clothes.” Bruce said in a more professional voice than Steve had ever heard him use. Bucky nodded a little, gave a soft “thank you” and followed him. Steve felt awkward following them around like a puppy, but he hadn’t seen Bucky in so long, and he wasn’t ready to let him out of his sight just yet.

Bucky’s room was just down the hall and around the corner from Steve’s, and it was right next to Bruce’s.

“I’ll find someone to loan you some clothes until we can get you some of your own-”

“He can borrow mine,” Steve interjected, feeling himself turn a little pink, “I’ll bring them over in a few minutes.”

Bruce smiled and looked to Bucky, who just nodded.

“I’ll probably be in the lab if you need anything, or I’m sure Steve can help you find your way around also,” Bruce said.

Bucky nodded one more time before entering his room and closing the door.

Steve walked with Bruce for a moment.

“What did he say?” Steve asked.

“Not much,” Bruce replied. “His vitals aren’t great. I asked him some tough questions, but he’s just not ready to talk about it. He’s probably been through a lot and might still be experiencing the shock of everything. I’m sure what he just needs some time, and we can figure it all out at his pace.”

It was frustrating to hear Bruce speak so matter-of-factly about it. Bucky didn’t look ok, and Steve wanted to fix it, to fix whatever was hurting him, but he couldn’t know how to do that if he didn’t understand the problem.

“You’re not happy with that answer, are you?” Bruce said after a long silence.

“You know me well,” Steve retorted.

Bruce spoke softly and carefully, “Look, Steve, the fact is that I don’t know what he’s going through right now. He’s not exactly being open. I want to do everything I can, but right now, he needs some time to breathe and process whatever happened. I have to give him that space for now if I want him to feel comfortable coming to me later. Smothering him won’t do any good, especially because I’m just a stranger to him. I need to go and see what else I can do to help fix this mess. Maybe you would feel better up here keeping an eye on him. We have to work this problem together. I’m not sure Tony or Thor are in any state to be making their own decisions right now. It’s time for us to pick up the slack. If that means keeping everyone calm and safe, then so be it. We have to handle this.”

Steve sighed and nodded, “You’re right. I’ll stay here with Bucky. Nat was with Tony when I saw them last. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

Bruce thanked him and continued to the elevator. Steve turned to get clothes from his room.

He picked out two of his favorite t-shirts and a pair of jeans that looked like they would fit Bucky and walked slowly back to Bucky’s room.

He knocked softly on the door, “Buck? I have some clothes.”

There was no answer.

“Buck, can you open the door?”

The door clicked open a moment later, and Bucky stood in front of him, looking like he was in agony.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked without hesitation.

Bucky swallowed and bit down on his bottom lip. Tears came to his eyes, and he flung himself into Steve’s arms. Steve dropped the clothes and held onto Bucky so tightly that he was almost afraid of hurting him. Bucky tucked his face into Steve’s shoulder, and his body began to heave with heavy sobs. Steve felt completely useless. He wanted to know what was hurting Bucky. He wanted to make it go away. Steve squeezed him tighter and moved his hand to the back of Bucky’s head, lacing his fingers through his long hair and holding him. Bucky cried and cried, and Steve could feel tears soaking through his shirt. They stood like that for several minutes until Steve stepped into the room, with his arm still around Bucky’s shoulders, and shut the door. Bucky pulled away and leaned heavily against the wall.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore, Steve. He’s in my head. He’s in my head,” Bucky’s voice was filled with pain, and the tears were still dripping from his chin.

“Feel like what? Who’s in your head?” Steve asked frantically.

“Thanos. It was all a trick, Steve. It was a set up.”

Steve’s heart filled with rage at the mention of Thanos, but he tried to level himself for Bucky’s sake.

“What do you mean?”

“The place I came from, the others weren’t there,” Bucky babbled almost incoherently, “I… I was alone. Thanos knew you’d try to find us, so he- he set you up. He let you find me… just me… so that I could deliver a message.”

Steve was beginning to feel sick. “What message?”

Bucky tried to take a breath but it was short and shaky.

“He knows you’re looking. He knows about the portal. If you keep searching for everyone, he won’t hesitate to destroy the earth and everyone on it.”

Bucky stopped for a moment, but then he winced and whimpered, holding his head in his hands.

He forced himself to continue, “He said the earth is in balance now. He said to leave it be, to let it thrive…”

Steve stood there in shock. For the whole last year, Tony and Bruce had been working on a plan doomed to fail. There were a million terrible emotions boiling up inside of him, but he saw Bucky’s face and every single one of the emotions faded into the background. Bucky looked terrified and helpless. His face was contorted, and his body shrunk to the floor. He held his knees to his chest and he continued to whimper like a small child. Steve knelt down and cupped Bucky’s face in his hands.

“It h…hurts, Steve. I can’t-” he cried.

Steve stammered desperately, but couldn’t find words. He pulled Bucky back into his arms and sat there with him, rocking him from side to side.

There was a long moment of silence, only filled by periodic sniffles.

Bucky’s voice came again, this time very quietly, “He hurt me, Steve, for months, he hurt me. I was alone. He wanted me to know his power, to fear him more than anything. He’s still in my head. I’m so scared.”

Steve’s heart felt like it was going to implode. He tasted his own tears now.

“He can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let him,” Steve said firmly.

“You don’t understand…” Bucky said.

“I don’t, but I promise you I won’t let him. We’ll do what he says. We’ll leave it be. He’ll leave you alone that way. You’ll be safe here; I’ll keep you safe.”

Bucky didn’t say anything more. They sat there together for what felt like hours, and Steve swore at one point that Bucky had fallen asleep.

He knew that he was going to have to tell the others, and he knew that Tony wasn’t going to stand for just giving up like this, but Steve made a promise. He had to keep Bucky safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.
> 
> Please leave comments <3


	7. The Comfort of Two

There was a knock at the door that made Bucky jump.

“It’s ok,” Steve whispered, “I’ll see who it is.”

He drug himself to his feet and opened the door to find Bruce waiting outside.

“Are you ok?” Bruce asked.

Steve nodded, but he wondered how obvious it was that he had been crying.

“Tony’s alright. He’s just shaken up. Natasha really helped to talk him down. Even Thor said some very kind things. How’s Bucky?”

Steve turned and saw Bucky looking up at them with extremely cautious eyes.

“He’s been through a lot,” Steve said before turning back to Bruce. “There’s something we need to tell you, and you’re not going to like it.”

“I haven’t particularly enjoyed anything about today. I’m sure it can’t be any worse,” Bruce replied in a matter-of-fact voice.

Steve offered Bucky to come along so that they could go somewhere more suitable for conversation. The three of them ended up sitting in the small atrium downstairs, and Steve took a deep breath and looked to Bucky, who nodded slowly.

Steve began, “I don’t know how to put this, but it was all a set up.”

Bruce’s face changed, and he clasped his hands and leaned forward.

“Thanos manipulated our technology, I’m assuming, to lead you and Tony exactly to the pocket dimension you found. He also spent the last year tormenting Bucky so that he could make him into his own personal messenger. He let us find him by making us think that’s where everyone was hidden. He sent Bucky back to us for the sole purpose of delivering the message.”

Bruce’s eyes had fallen to the floor, and he was slowly shaking his head, “What message?”

Bucky spoke in a shaky voice, “To quit looking for everyone, or else… Or else he’ll wipe out the rest of this planet. He won’t give you another chance.”

Bruce sat paralyzed, and the room fell into a long silence.

“So everything… was for nothing?” Bruce finally asked.

“It feels that way, yes. But also, I think, no. You and Tony did everything you could. We don’t have to give up. We just found out that this method won’t work. For now we can focus on finding a way to kill Thanos. Then, if we manage that, we can try again to find everybody else.” Steve said.

“Are they even still alive?” Bruce looked at Bucky with desperate eyes.

Bucky looked at his knees, “I don’t know. I spent the whole time alone. He tortured me, and part of the torture was telling me over and over that everyone else was dead.”

“Was he bluffing?”

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, “I don’t know. I’m sorry, I don’t know.”

Steve could see how upset Bucky had become, and he was worried that the memories were hurting him. He wanted to hug him, to go somewhere alone with him, but he couldn’t, so instead he interjected.

“Bruce, do you understand that we can’t keep trying to find everyone until we kill Thanos?”

Bruce looked mortified.

“I need to know that you understand,” Steve said, and he cringed at how aggressive it came out.

“I understand,” Bruce replied.

“Will Tony understand?” Steve asked in a more gentle tone.

“Tony is impulsive, and he’s desperate right now, but I think I can talk sense into him. I think I can make him understand and redirect his focus to taking Thanos down first.”

Steve gave a sigh of relief and nodded to Bruce, “Thank you.”

Bruce said that he would handle Tony first thing in the morning, as it was getting very late. Steve thanked him again before they parted ways, and then he went with Bucky back to the second floor.

They walked in silence, and Steve could almost feel the tension radiating off of Bucky. Steve walked him back to his room. When they got to the door, Bucky opened it and stepped inside.

“Are you hungry? I can bring you some food from the kitchen.”

Bucky shook his head.

“Alright, if you’re sure. But are you ok? If you would like me to stay, we can talk for a little while.”

“It’s late,” Bucky said, “we should sleep.”

Steve gave him a gentle smile, “Yeah, sleep is probably best. I’ll see you in the morning, ok?”

“Goodnight,” Bucky said before shutting the door.

Steve stood there for a moment before returning to his own room. Bucky looked so terrible, but he remembered what Bruce said earlier. Smothering him would only make things worse. Bucky probably needed some time to rest and relax. Steve took a long, hot shower and changed into a pair of grey sweats and a t-shirt.

He lay in bed, replaying all the events of the day in his head. He worried how Tony would react. He worried about Bucky, too. He wished this were simpler. He wished that everyone could have back the people they care about. He was fortunate to have Bucky back, and he felt guilty for being the only one to get what he wanted, but he was grateful nonetheless.

He spent several hours laying there with his mind racing, and he wasn’t even sure what time it was when he felt himself finally start to drift.

A knock on his door made him jolt. Had he imagined it? He rubbed his face, trying to clear his head of the sleepy confusion. He walked to the door and opened it to see Bucky. His eyes were puffy and, and he stood with his arms crossed over his stomach.

“Buck? Is everything ok?” Steve barely had time to finish his sentence before Bucky fell into his arms. He hugged Steve tight for a moment before standing back and wiping his eyes.

“Come in, Buck. I’m here for you. Did you want to talk about it?” Steve asked.

Bucky sat on the edge of his bed and fiddled with his hands.

“Can’t sleep?” Steve asked gently.

Bucky shook his head. Steve sat beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t know what to do. Bucky’s silence made him feel like he didn’t want to talk about it right now.

“Would it help if you stayed in here with me?”

Bucky looked up into his eyes and nodded a little.

“You can take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch,” Steve said. He turned to grab a pillow for the couch, but Bucky caught his hand and tugged him back.

“Stay…” Bucky said quietly.

Steve felt himself blush a little, “you ok with sharing?”

Bucky pulled on his hand again until Steve sat on the bed beside him.

“I’ll be right here, Buck, I’ll stay. You won’t have to be alone, ok? You’re safe here.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said. His face looked relieved, and he crawled over to the left side of the bed. He laid down on his back, and Steve turned out the light.

Steve felt butterflies in his stomach, and he became hyper-aware of his presence here in the same bed as Bucky. His face felt hot. He could hear Bucky’s breathing. The silence felt uncomfortable, and he felt like he should say something to fill it. He worried that he was breathing too loudly, and he didn’t want to turn over to get comfortable because he was worried about disturbing his friend. He lay there for a few minutes, trying to calm his own giddiness. He felt Bucky roll over to face him. Several more minutes passed, and Steve felt a warm hand touch his. Without moving, he opened his hand and let Bucky’s fingers interlace with his own. An immediate calm came over him, and he smiled in the darkness. He rubbed his thumb over Bucky’s, and soon Steve could hear soft snores coming from him. Bucky was fast asleep, and within a couple of minutes, so was he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments :)


	8. The Worst Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you start to feel distressed during this chapter, take a break or skip to the end notes for help before continuing to read. Please take care of yourselves, my lovelies. Thank you all for reading my story and leaving sweet comments! <3

Steve woke to soft sniffles and shivers from Bucky. The sun coming through the window gave the room a golden glow. Bucky’s hand was no longer holding his, and he was turned away. Steve, still in a euphoric sleepy haze, rolled towards him and placed his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. He felt Bucky flinch and he quickly wiped his tears and stopped sniffling, holding very still.

“Buck?” Steve’s voice was hoarse, “you ok?”

Bucky nodded his head and curled up a little tighter. Steve didn’t want to press him. He could sense that now was not the right time.

“Would you like to come with me for breakfast?”

Bucky shook his head without a sound.

“Alright, well I can bring some food up for the both of us, and when you feel like eating, you’ll have it here,” Steve rolled out of bed and took his clothes into the bathroom to change. He brushed his teeth and hair, and he looked down at his hands which still shook a little. When he came out of the bathroom, Bucky hadn’t moved, so he left the room quietly and headed for the kitchen.

Natasha was there, waiting on her toast. Her hair hadn’t been brushed, and she slouched drowsily against the counter.

“Good morning,” she said.

Steve greeted her and opened the fridge. His stomach turned when he saw the food inside. Food was more of an enemy in the last couple months. His appetite had vanished long ago, and his body now seemed to refuse any food he tried to eat. Nothing in the fridge looked good, but he needed to make sure Bucky ate, and he didn’t want to be a hypocrite. With a sigh, he reached for the eggs and asked Natasha to leave the bread out for him.

“So,” she said, scooting the loaf of bread towards him, “are we going to ignore the elephant in the room?”

Steve turned to her, confused, but then realized what she was talking about.

“Bruce told you.”

“He told all of us,” she said in a flat tone, making it difficult for Steve to read her.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said in a whisper.

“What do you mean? It’s not your fault, is it?” Natasha moved closer to him.

“I don’t know, I guess I just feel guilty. Even though it was for a horrible reason, Bucky _was_ the one to come back. I got what I wanted, but it feels like it was at the expense of everyone else. I know that’s not rational, but it makes me feel responsible.”

Natasha tilted her head and knitted her eyebrows, “Steve, of course everyone is going to be upset after what happened. Any person who was being honest with themselves would wish that it was their own loved one who came back through that portal. But that,” she looked Steve in the eyes, “doesn’t mean it’s personal, and it doesn’t mean they resent you. It just means they’re human.”

“So Tony didn’t take it well, then,” Steve said.

Natasha leaned back and narrowed her eyes at him, “No, not really, but did you expect him to?”

Steve shook his head. His gut tightened. He prayed this wouldn’t play out like the last time he and Tony disagreed.

“Don’t get your panties in a wad, though, he understands. He won’t get us all killed,” Natasha turned to retrieve her toast. She plopped it onto a plate, buttered it, and walked away with one slice in her mouth. “I recommend you stay away from the lab for a while,” she said in a muffled voice as she left the room.

Steve stood there for a moment with his mind racing again. It was incredibly selfish, but he wished he could just get out of this place. He could take Bucky and find a nice place to stay, and they wouldn’t have to deal with any of this mess. He already did that once, though, and doing it again would make him into even more of a coward.

The eggs sizzled as he cracked them into the pan. He felt nauseated even thinking about eating them. The sound of the eggs seemed awfully loud, considering how quiet the morning was. The kitchen was dark compared to Steve’s sunlit room. Despite the massive scale of this place, the dimness of the kitchen made him feel claustrophobic and uncomfortable. He shoveled the eggs onto a plate. They were still a little runny, but he couldn’t stand being here any longer.

 

* * *

 

Steve gave a gentle tap on the door as a courtesy before entering the room. He peered around the corner to find the bed abandoned. It had been left in a swirling mess of white sheets. He set the eggs on the desk and knocked on the bathroom door.

“Buck, I brought some food.”

There was no answer. He knew Bucky was a quiet one, but he felt a lump form in his throat.

He knocked again, a little harder, “Bucky?”

Silence.

He tried the door handle, which was locked.

“Bucky, I swear to god I will kick down this door if you don’t answer me.”

An inaudible weak voice came from inside.

“Oh god, Bucky, you scared me, are you ok?”

The voice came again, still weak, but clear this time, “Steve…”

Steve felt all of his relief drain away, and he got a sense of what was happening. He jiggled the door handle aggressively.

“Buck, let me in. Let me in!” he shouted.

There was a weird sound through the door, like a strange grunt but more pained, followed by a loud thud. Steve felt himself start to panic. His hands were shaking worse than ever. He stepped back and kicked the door as hard as he could. It burst open, sending splinters of wood in every direction.

Steve gasped and felt his knees turn to jello beneath him.

There was so much blood.

Bucky was slouched into the corner by the cabinets. His hair stuck to his sweat-covered face, and his head bobbed a little, as if he were trying to maintain consciousness. Steve’s eyes moved down to his left shoulder. There was blood pouring down his chest and soaking through the crevices in his metal arm. It flowed from the place where the metal met his flesh. In his right hand he loosely held a knife, and there was a cut running from his wrist almost to his elbow. There was a large puddle growing beneath him.

Steve wasn’t sure if he fell to his knees purposefully or accidentally. His head was swimming, and he was pretty sure he was screaming. He pressed his palm against Bucky’s blood-stained chest and then reached up to cup his face. He lifted his chin and then tried to wipe away his hair, but only managed to smear blood across Bucky’s ghostly pale cheeks.

Steve’s head felt like an earthquake and a tornado all at once. His heart pounded so hard in his chest that it hurt. He screamed and screamed, shaking Bucky and pulling him forward to hold him against his chest. Bucky’s eyes were still half-open, but Steve could feel his body growing heavier with every second. With all his might, Steve pulled Bucky to his feet. Bucky couldn’t hold himself up, so Steve held him. He didn’t even have a plan. He didn’t know what to do, he only felt like he needed to get Bucky out of here, he had to get help. He took one step before Bucky lost consciousness completely. Steve’s whole body shook, and his muscles failed him. Bucky slipped out of his grasp and hit the floor. Steve felt woozy now. There was so much blood. He couldn’t breathe. His chest hurt so badly. He tasted bitterness in his mouth. Had he thrown up? He couldn’t recall. He looked down and saw Bucky lying motionless. He felt the world being pulled out from under him.

Two… Three? No. Two. Two hands grabbed him from behind. He reached out to Bucky, still crying and screaming. He tried to fight the hands that were stealing him away. He resisted and pulled, trying to reach Bucky, but the more he pulled, the further away he got.

 _Surely this is a nightmare,_ he thought to himself.

He heaved, definitely throwing up this time. His vision faded to darkness, but he fought it.

“For fuck’s sake, STEVE!” A voice with a heavy accent boomed through the air, jolting Steve out of his daze.

“Stop fighting. Stop! Look at me!”

Steve felt the hands swirl him around, and he was face-to-face with Thor. He felt his senses return to him briefly, but then everything swayed one last time, and everything went black.

 

* * *

 

Steve woke up what he presumed to be several minutes later. He was sitting a few feet from the bathroom door. There were a lot of people in the room that he didn’t recognize, but they were wearing uniforms. Steve watched as they carried a stretcher into the bathroom and out of his sight.

What was happening? Steve couldn’t recall what… Thor saw that he was conscious and knelt down beside him. He remembered seeing Thor’s face not long ago. Then- Bucky. Oh god, Bucky. Steve shouted and tried to crawl to the bathroom door, but his muscles were so tired. Thor grabbed him by the arms and gently pulled him away.

“It’s ok, Steve, just let them handle it. They can help.”

Steve tried to look Thor in the eyes. He still felt fuzzy and very disoriented.

His noticed that his throat hurt. Thor pulled him forward into a tight hug.

“You’re going to be ok. Everything will be ok, Steve.”

Steve had never heard Thor speak so tenderly, and it only added to the dream-like feeling of it all. After Thor let go, Steve leaned back against the wall, and he noticed that he had gotten blood on Thor as well, or was it there before? He didn’t know. Had Thor tried to help Bucky himself before he went for help? Steve’s eyes seemed to focus a bit, so he looked up around the room. Natasha was speaking with one of the uniformed men. Bruce was standing by the bathroom door, carefully watching the people inside. Tony was standing near the doorway to the hall. His face was drained of all color. He stared blankly ahead with wide eyes. His jaw hung open very slightly. He looked like he was in shock.

There was a collective grunt, and several men carried the stretcher out of the bathroom. On it lay Bucky. Steve got to his knees and tried to reach out to Bucky’s face as he passed by, but one of the men half-shouted at him, so he drew back and watched them leave the room before pulling himself to his feet.

“Woah, woah,” Bruce turned to him and held a hand out. Thor wrapped an arm around Steve to steady him. Bruce continued, “Steve, did he try to…”

Steve nodded. He opened his mouth to speak, but the lump in his throat made it almost impossible to get any words out. Bruce saw this and realized that maybe now wasn’t the time for questions.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he said. Steve wondered if he was lying.

Natasha came directly to him when she finished speaking with the uniformed man.

“I’m so sorry, Steve,” she said. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know,” Steve replied honestly. He wanted to rub his eyes, but his hands were still covered in Bucky’s blood.

“You can use the shower in my room, you need to get cleaned up. It will help,” said Nat.

“I need to go with them,” Steve protested.

“They’re not going far,” Tony said.

Everyone turned and parted a little so that he could join them. He still looked like a ghost, but his eyes held a certain amount of empathy for Steve. His voice was gentle, and the way he carried himself was more humble than Steve had ever seen. He didn’t even seem like himself anymore.

“This did used to be a fully-functional HQ. We have an entire medical department two floors down. It may not be a 24/7 facility anymore, but I still have the best doctors in the state on-call. They’ll take care of him here, Steve. He’ll be alright. He’s a tough cookie.”

Steve expected Tony to be the last one to comfort him, but after hearing him speak so kindly, Steve finally felt his hands steady a little.

“Thank you, Tony, really,” he said.

Tony gave a nod, “You should get cleaned up. I’ll keep an eye on him until you’re ready to come down.”

Natasha got some of Steve’s clothes out of the drawer, and they walked together to her room.

He left his blood-stained shirt and pants in the sink as he drew the water. When it was hot, he stepped into the shower and let it run over his head. He scrubbed and scrubbed at his arms and hands, but it wouldn’t seem to come off. He saw Bucky again, slouched against the cabinet in the corner. He saw the blood, his shoulder, his arm. He started to cry as the scene replayed itself all too vividly in his mind. He scrubbed until his skin turned bright pink. He reached for the nobs in front of him and turned the water hotter until it burned his skin, and he kept scrubbing. After fifteen minutes or so, he stepped out of the shower, feeling completely raw. His skin still burned, and he looked down at his arms to see that he had actually scratched the skin completely off in some places. He patted himself off with a soft grey towel, but that hurt too.

After getting dressed in jeans and a long-sleeve maroon shirt that Natasha brought for him, he stepped out into her room. She stood from her desk chair and crossed the room to embrace him.

She didn’t say anything, and Steve was grateful that he didn’t have to hear another ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘it’s ok’ right now.

“Shall we go?” she asked after a long moment.

“Yeah,” Steve said with a sigh.

 

* * *

 

Steve waited, and after five hours, he lost track of how many he had been sitting there. A doctor came through a door to the left, and Steve stood to meet her.

“Hello, Steve, I’m Dr. Sajjadi, the head surgeon,” the woman spoke, “James is stable, he’s just waking up now. Would you like to see him?”

“Yes, please.” Steve realized immediately how frantic he sounded.

As he followed her down the hall, she filled him in, “We had to conduct and emergency surgery to repair his right arm, as there was a lot of damage. Because his left arm is prosthetic, there wasn’t much need for treatment past stopping the bleeding and closing the lacerations on his shoulder. He’s going to be in a lot of pain for a while, and due to his apparent suicide attempt, he will have to undergo further evaluations and possible psychiatric treatment once he is fully coherent. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Steve said, his head was starting to swim again.

“Good. He’s right through here,” she opened a door for him, and he entered.

It looked nothing like a typical hospital room. He was relieved that it looked a million times more welcoming and comfortable. The walls were made partially of beautiful wood paneling, and the lights were warm. The bed had soft blankets. The chairs in the corner were large and plush. The monitors were built into the wall and beeped in a less threatening way than they did in hospitals.

Bucky lay in the bed on his back. His right arm was heavily bandaged, and his left shoulder was covered by a light blue gown. Dr. Sajjadi stood in the corner of the room. Steve pulled a stool to the right side of the bed, and he very gently put his hand on Bucky’s upper arm where the bandage ended. Bucky had been slowly blinking open his eyes, and after a moment, he looked up to Steve, and then he looked incredibly ashamed and frustrated and dropped his eyes to Steve’s chest.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve said with a warm smile. He was trying his hardest not to look sad or upset or disappointed.

“Hi,” he said back.

There was an awkward silence as Steve tried to figure out what to say. No one ever teaches you what to say to someone who just tried to kill themselves.

“You know I’m here for you and with you, right Buck?”

Bucky closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.

Steve continued, “I probably have no idea what it’s like to be in your shoes, but you’re here now, and you don’t have to try to go through this alone.”

Bucky spoke in a pained voice, “you don’t understand.”

“Bucky, I- I probably don’t, you’re right, but-”

Bucky was looking cautiously past Steve now to Dr. Sajjadi. He looked scared and uncomfortable.

Steve turned to her.

“Could you give us a moment please?” Steve asked politely.

The doctor nodded, “I was only making sure he woke up without any complications, but he seems ok. I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

She stepped outside, and they both waited for the door to close.

“Bu-”

Bucky interjected before Steve could say anything more, “I don’t want to hurt you.” Bucky raised his voice accidentally, and it cracked a little.

Steve looked at him with terrible sadness.

“Thanos, he kept telling me that I was going to hurt you. He said sooner or later, I’d snap. He said my mind was too fragile and that I’m too broken. He said that one day I’d lash out and hurt you before I even realized what I’d done. He said between my arm and my history with Hydra, I could easily kill you,” Bucky was spluttering and whimpering. “I tried. I tried to get rid of my arm. I figured maybe without it, you could fight me off easily, but I couldn’t, Steve, I couldn’t get it off. I wanted to end it. That way I wouldn’t have to be this scared anymore. I wouldn’t have to feel this pain, and that way I wouldn’t ever have the chance to hurt you. You’d be safer without me.” Bucky was becoming so hysterical that he was barely breathing between words, and his face started to turn red.

“Bucky, Bucky, breathe, it’s ok. It’s ok, Buck,” Steve leaned in close to him. He put his forehead down to the pillow and gently pushed his head into the right crook of Bucky’s neck.

He spoke with his voice muffled by the pillow, “He was lying to you.” Steve lifted his eyes and brushed his cheek against Bucky’s good shoulder. “He was only trying to hurt you. It was all to make you hurt, but it wasn’t true. He just knew what buttons to push. I’m not afraid of you. I know you won’t hurt me.”

“And if I do?” Bucky asked.

“Bucky, I can’t live without you. Do you understand? If you were gone, I would have no reason to stick around anymore, ok? I can’t lose you again, I can’t.” Steve was now in tears, he was sobbing, and Bucky tilted his head to rest against Steve’s.

Steve stayed there, sobbing so hard that his whole body shook.

“I love you, Buck,” he said finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not not NOT romanticizing suicide or mental illness. Mainly I write as a method of coping with my own feelings and mental illness, and I'm only trying to accurately portray the character's feelings and actions according to my own lil marvel universe.
> 
> If you or a friend is struggling with such things, please reach out. There is help out there.
> 
> I understand that the contents of this chapter may have been upsetting or triggering to some. The number for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (USA) is 1 (800) 273-8255. Please do not hesitate to call if you need support or help.
> 
> Lastly, I hope you all have enjoyed my story this far. I promise that it will get lighter from here. There may still be significant angst, but there will be more happiness as well. As always, I look forward to hearing from you!


	9. Help Wanted

Bucky didn’t reply, but he didn’t move away from Steve either. Steve held his breath, waiting for some kind of reaction. Suddenly, he heard Bucky shift a little bit, and he felt metal fingers brush his neck just below his jawline. Steve quickly sat up and pulled away.

“Bucky, be careful! Your shoulder…”

The pain was blatant on his face, but he smiled a little and said to Steve, “It’s ok.”

Bucky reached out with his left arm. Steve hesitated, but then leaned forward again, allowing Bucky to cup his face. The metal was cold on his cheek. Bucky looked him in the eyes for a moment. Steve hadn’t seen those eyes so clearly in a very, very long time. He felt his heart swell, and he wished he could climb into the bed beside Bucky and hold him tight.

Bucky’s eyes were warm, but soon his face changed, and he broke his gaze. He pulled his hand away and rested it by his side.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“No, no. Don’t be sorry, please. I-”

“No, I mean I’m sorry I tried to hurt myself.”

Steve bit his cheek. He replied in a careful voice, “You don’t have to apologize, not to me. I’m just glad you’re here and you’re safe. I’ll be here for you from now on, ok? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Bucky opened his mouth to reply, but the door cracked open and Dr. Sajjadi entered with another woman just behind her.

“Pardon me, not to interrupt, but this is Dr. Mendosa. She’s here to conduct James’ evaluations to help determine the best treatment plan going forward.”

Steve stood from his seat and gave the new doctor a polite nod. He looked to Bucky, “Well, pal, I guess this is where I have to go.”

Bucky suddenly looked a little anxious, but there wasn’t much he could do except watch Steve go after a small reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Dr. Sajjadi told Steve in the hallway that the evaluation process would probably take around two hours. He didn’t know what to do in the meantime, but as soon as he reached the waiting area, Natasha stood to greet him with a hug.

“How is he?” she asked. He had a feeling she was asking more for his own sake than Bucky’s.

“He’s ok,” Steve replied, “but I’m worried, Nat. I’ve lost him so many times. I can’t, I _physically_ can’t lose him again. Even this last time, after Thanos, I was ready to… I couldn’t handle it again. I wouldn’t survive.”

Natasha’s face had turned to one of real concern now, but it seemed as though she was biting her tongue a little.

“Steve, you have every right to be worried, but there are other people in this building who are just as worried about you.”

“I doubt that,” Steve scoffed.

Natasha paused as if she were about to tell him to shut his mouth, but again, she proceeded in a kind voice, seemingly with a little more effort this time to mask her own fear and frustration. “All I’m saying is that in the midst of all this, you need to remember to take care of yourself too. I know you still haven’t been eating, and it seems like your whole sense of wellbeing is dependent on the man in that room. It scares me.”

Steve wanted to argue with her. He wanted to tell her she was wrong, but he knew she wasn’t. Even with the serum in his body, his health was in the danger zone. He hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself, but he could actually _feel_ how much he had been neglecting his own needs. And now with the stress of Bucky’s suicidality, he knew that his anxiety would probably become quite overbearing.

Steve just looked down at his shoes, but then he gathered his composure and looked Natasha in the eyes. “I hear you, Nat, but I’ll be alright.”

She looked skeptical, but nodded and asked him if he wanted her to stay.

“Actually I’m thinking of going on a run to help clear my mind,” Steve said.

“Alright,” Natasha replied. She gave him a halfhearted hug before leaving. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”

 

* * *

 

Steve said he was going to run, but his body felt too weak and tired. He knew he couldn’t go back to his room after what happened there. He regretted letting Natasha leave him. He wandered around the building until he came across the lab. He was hoping to talk to Bruce, but the lights were off and it looked abandoned.

The quietness was crushing. This was too big of a building to be lacking constant background noise. The only sound Steve could hear was the sound of his own shoes squeaking quietly on the polished marble floor as he walked. He took the stairs up to the first floor, ignoring the aching in his legs. The stairs led to the main lobby. He walked to the door, and looked through the glass to the skyline in the distance. He stood there for a long time, and he felt off. At first he blamed Natasha for making him feel guilty, but he knew that wasn’t it. _Maybe it’s just been a long day. Of course I’m not going to feel great after everything that’s happened,_ he thought to himself.

A voice echoed through the room and startled him. He spun on his heels to see Tony. He didn’t even hear him come in.

“Hey Tony,” Steve said in a tired voice.

Tony looked even worse than he had before. The dark circles under his eyes were carved deeper and deeper each day. His eyes looked glassy, and Steve noticed that, much like his own hands, Tony’s were shaking.

“There’s a different room ready for you upstairs. I had all of your things moved. It’s just to the left of Bucky’s room.” Tony spoke quietly, and it disturbed Steve how little he sounded like himself.

“Thank you,” Steve said.

Tony nodded and turned to walk away, but then he turned back to Steve. He hesitated, looking conflicted, but then he spoke, “Steve, I’m so sorry.”

“Please don’t be, Tony. What happened, happened. We’re dealing with it,” Steve spoke tenderly, “But I wanted to apologize too. I know it’s not something I had control over, but I’m so sorry about Pepper and Peter.” Tony flinched. “It wasn’t your fault. You and Bruce did everything you possibly could. Thanos just wanted to hurt everyone again. That’s not on you.”

Tony stared at the ground.

“Thanks,” he said in a shaky voice.

Steve reached out to give Tony’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. Tony sniffled and wiped his nose, and he took a deep, forced breath. Then, out of the blue, he stepped forward into Steve’s arms. He had been trying so hard to stay poised, but he broke into loud sobs that reverberated off of the walls.

“I don’t know what to do, Steve. I was supposed to be the one to have it all figured out. I was supposed to fix this. I shouldn’t have let any of this happen. I’ve failed Pepper, I killed Peter. I disappointed Banner. And no matter how hard I try, I just keep hurting everyone. Everything I touch turns to shit, Steve. I don’t know what to do.”

Tony was nearly hysterical. He was gasping for air between sentences, and the shakes had moved from his hands into the rest of his body.

“Tony, I need you to take a deep breath.” Steve heard his mother’s voice in his mind. He remembered the day that he had been out with Bucky playing in the garden when he fell and scraped his knee. He cried and became hysterical when he saw blood. His mother came out of the house and wrapped him in her arms. _Sweetie, I need you to take a deep breath,_ she said.

The memory faded away as suddenly as it had come, and Steve was back in the lobby, holding a devastated Tony Stark in his arms.

Tony tried to breathe, but he struggled to, and the harder he tried, the more he gasped. Soon he was coughing, and Steve grabbed him by the arms and led him to sit down against the wall. Steve sat directly in front of him. Tony was clutching his chest.

“Am I having a heart attack?” he spluttered. The question didn’t seem to be directed to Steve.

“No, Tony, you’re in a panic. Breathe with me.” Steve took long, slow breaths, and placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder to urge him to try and follow along. Tony closed his eyes and slowly began lengthening his breaths little by little. His body still shook, but he had finally quit hyperventilating.

He sat there for a long time just breathing in sync with Steve, and after a few minutes, he opened his eyes again and looked up.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Do not apologize for that,” Steve said in a stern voice. “Do you feel a little better at least?”

Tony shrugged, “No… and yes.”

“It’s ok, Tony. You’re alright. Look at me. You haven’t failed anyone. You haven’t disappointed anyone. You aren’t responsible for the lives that Thanos took. You are a good man, and you are my friend. It’s ok to feel terrible, but it doesn’t make all those bad thoughts true.”

Tony nodded slowly, “Thank you. I haven’t had a panic attack since after New York. The last year has been hell, and I the last two days have been the final straw, but I’m really glad you came back, Cap.”

Steve helped him to his feet again, and Tony insisted that he would be ok, but Steve urged him to take a break and rest, to which he finally agreed.

After they parted ways, Steve’s head still buzzed with all the things Tony said. He thought about the portal and about Pepper and Bruce and Thor and everyone who’d been victimized in one way or another. He wished he could come up with some easy fix. He started to feel overwhelmed and exhausted again, but he worried that he would fall asleep if he went back to his room. He didn’t want to keep Bucky waiting after he finished his evaluations. He decided it might be best to go back to the waiting area in the medical wing.

 

* * *

 

Steve was awoken by Dr. Sajjadi. He felt a pain in his neck when he tried to lift his head. He felt embarrassed for dozing off in the waiting room, and he wondered how long he had been asleep, but he didn’t dare ask.

“Dr. Mendosa is finished with James,” she said in a kind voice.

He rubbed his eyes as he walked down the hall to Bucky’s room. There was a fogginess in his head that made him feel as if he still wasn’t fully awake. His body begged for more rest, but that would have to wait.

Bucky looked exhausted. He didn’t greet Steve. His eyes were focused on his lap where he fidgeted with the edge of his sheets.

“How you doing, Buck?” Steve asked him.

He just shook his head, looking as if he was holding back tears.

Steve sat in one of the comfy chairs beside the bed, and he used his feet to scoot himself close enough to reach out and hold Bucky’s hand. He was extra careful not to hurt his bandaged arm. Bucky’s hand was warm and clammy. Steve sat there in a comfortable silence, rubbing his thumb over Bucky’s fingers.

Steve couldn’t imagine the evaluation process being easy to sit through. They probably asked all kinds of difficult questions, and it was understandable that Bucky wasn’t feeling his best right now. His only goal was to make sure Bucky didn’t feel alone, and if sitting by his bedside was the most helpful thing at the moment, then he would sit there as long as his friend needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh that chapter was hard to get written because of writer's block and depression. I'm sorry if it wasn't as good, but I'll try to get more good content out soon.


	10. Midnight Amber Light

Steve woke up feeling a twinge in his back. There was a faint steady beeping in the background. The lights were dim. There were no windows in this room, but Steve had a sense it was very late at night. He heard slow breaths coming from Bucky, and he realized that he had fallen asleep slouched over the edge of his bed. His head was resting on Bucky’s stomach, and he felt an arm draped gently over his shoulders. He knew that if he moved, he would wake his friend; but his back ached, and so he slowly sat up.

Bucky stirred when his arm began to slide down Steve’s back.

“Steve?” he asked in a groggy voice. The lamps in the corners glowed amber like burning coals, but the room was still almost too dark to make out his face.

“I’m here, Buck,” Steve whispered, carefully guiding Bucky’s hand over his head and to his mouth. He pressed Bucky’s hand to his lips. It was warm and soft, and he craved it’s gentle touch.

Bucky rolled to his good shoulder to face Steve. He breathed slowly still, but like he was fighting to stay awake.

“Steve?” he repeated.

“Yeah, Buck?”

“I love you… too,” Bucky’s voice was slurred and almost too quiet to make out. Steve sat there, slowly grazing his lips along Bucky’s hand, but he felt it’s weight now, and he knew Bucky had drifted off again. He smiled to himself in the darkness, and he felt his eyes become ever-so-slightly teary. He tenderly laid Bucky’s arm back down on the bed by his side, and he leaned back in his chair. He, too, was fighting sleep, but he gave into it soon enough, and the amber light slowly faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to the song "On The Shore" by Slow Skies while writing this, and it felt like such a sweet and peaceful moment to be wrapped up in.


	11. The Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took so long to update. I am on vacation with my family in Hawaii, and I'm trying to keep up, but it's hard. This chapter took an unexpected turn, and I'm so excited to share with you this new direction my fic is about to take. It's gonna get really intense and very fluffy :)

The morning came all too quickly, and Steve was ushered out of the room only a few minutes after being woken by a nurse. He was told that Bucky would begin psychiatric treatment today, and that he could come back around noon.

As Steve left the medical wing, he felt a pain in his stomach, and he realized how long it had been since he’d eaten. The thought of food still made him nauseous. He hadn’t eaten regularly in so long that his body had learned how to function without much at all. He knew, though, that this wasn’t healthy, and he figured he might as well try to eat something small.

When he came nearer to the kitchen, he smelled something sweet, almost like the pancakes his mom used to make. After all these years, he was never able to forget those wonderful Sunday mornings.

He leaned against the doorframe and saw Tony laboring over the stove. The sweet aroma was now tinged with the smell of burning bread.

“Damnit,” Tony muttered as he scraped at the pan with a plastic spatula. Steve approached and stepped to the side to get a glimpse of what Tony was attempting to make.

“French toast?” The sound of Steve’s voice made Tony jump so hard that he hit the pan handle and caused it to clatter a bit on the stovetop.

“Jesus!” Tony shouted. After taking a moment to gather himself, he gave Steve a disgruntled glance before grabbing the pan and scraping a darkened piece of toast onto a plate beside the stove. “Good morning, Cap.”

Steve chuckled to himself, “Sorry, I forgot never to startle an old man.”

“Listen here, whippersnapper,” Tony pointed a finger at Steve before his face turned into a lighthearted smile. He gave Steve a single, solid pat on the arm, and then motioned to the stove. “Would you like some? I haven’t cooked my own meal in… forever… so it’s a cause for celebration, I guess.”

“Sure, but maybe I should take care of my portion,” Steve joked.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Everything is trial and error. That’s just science.”

“No,” Steve said, “ _that’s_ french toast.”

Steve hadn’t been able to joke with anyone for ages, and it took a weight off of his chest. For how bad Tony appeared the last couple days, he was like a whole new person this morning, and Steve couldn’t be happier about it.

“How’s Barnes?”

Steve’s stomach sank a little, but he also noticed how complex his emotions had become regarding Bucky. It was almost bittersweet to think of him now. Steve felt pain about Bucky’s emotional turmoil and physical condition, but he also felt like a giddy teenager thinking about the _I love you’_ s _,_ and the closeness they could feel once again.

Steve fiddled with his thumbs as he answered, “He’s… ok, I guess. I mean, it’s not ok. Nothing about his situation is ok, but he’s at least open to me. I don’t really know. It’s complicated…” He trailed off, almost forgetting that he was talking to Tony.

“It’s always complicated,” Tony replied with a sad smile, “especially when we’re dealing with the ones we love... but that’s what makes it worth it to keep fighting on, right? We care about them, and we’d do anything to see them be ok again.”

Steve nodded, but his heart ached for Tony.

“Here,” he said, holding out a plate to Steve. Steve hadn’t even noticed that he was cooking another batch of french toast while they talked. He grabbed it from Tony’s hands and thanked him before sitting at the counter to eat. Tony kept making more and more french toast, and Steve ate slowly, mesmerized by the growing pile of food beside the stove. Who was it all for? Was Tony expecting everyone to come and join them for breakfast? It seemed unlikely to Steve. He was about to ask when Tony broke the silence first.

“I don’t mean to overstep, or maybe I’m just too nosy, but are you and Barnes…” he made a very ambiguous gesture and then gazed at Steve expectantly.

“Are we… do you mean… Wait what?” Steve feigned confusion, but he knew what Tony was asking.

“I know he went to your room the other night, and I also saw you at his bedside last night. Total accident, by the way. I went to check up on him. You know, possibly talk to him. I knew he’d probably be asleep, but I wasn’t, so I wanted to give it a shot. I didn’t expect you to be there at such odd hours, and what I saw was…”

Steve felt himself turn pink. Had Tony overheard their sleepy conversation? Did that even happen? Or did he just see them getting too close while they slept? Steve’s imagination began to run wild as to what Tony saw and what he thought about it.

“heartwarming,” Tony finished. Steve replayed Tony’s last word in his mind, searching for some hint of sarcasm in his tone, but he got the sense that Tony was being genuine.

Steve stuttered and looked to the ground, wishing his cheeks would return to a normal color.

“I always knew he meant a lot to you, but I didn’t know it was like that,” Tony continued.

“It’s not,” Steve said, working up the courage to look Tony in the eyes.

“Steve, I didn’t bring it up to humiliate you, and I’m sorry if I overstepped. I only brought it up because I wanted to tell you it’s ok. I’m happy for you.”

Steve wished he could melt into the background. His embarrassment was still overwhelming.

After a long silence that mostly consisted of Steve panicking internally, Tony turned back to his french toast, prodding it with his spatula, “unless I’m wrong, but the evidence thus far is _very_ conclusive, and I doubt I’m imagining these things. I mean, it’s really not subtle at all.”

Steve finally broke, “ok, ok, fine, yes. You’re right. You’re right, but it’s nothing serious right now, and my only priority is that Bucky heals from all this shit he’s been through. Tony, please, _please_ don’t tell any of the others. I need to know that Bucky will be ok, and until he’s stable, I don’t want this to be made into some big deal.”

Tony gave a mischievous smile with a hint of victory twisted in, but after a moment, his face turned gentle again, and his voice became even and reassuring.

“You have my word, Cap. Secret safe with me.”

 

* * *

 

Steve was waiting just outside of Bucky’s room when Dr. Mendosa came out. She gave him a polite smile, but she looked like her mind was elsewhere, and she continued down the hall without a word.

Steve pushed open Bucky’s door slowly and peered into the room.

Bucky lay on his bed, curled up on his left side, facing away from the door. He didn’t move at all upon hearing Steve enter.

Steve cleared his throat, “Hey Buck.”

No response.

“You ok, pal?”

Still no answer.

Steve walked carefully around the bed. Bucky’s hair was draped over his face. His knees were drawn to his chest. He still hadn’t moved, but Steve knew he wasn’t asleep. Steve drew up a chair and sat by his side, as per usual. Maybe Bucky didn’t want to talk, but Steve hoped to provide some comfort just by being present. He wondered what Bucky’s first day of treatment had been like, and he hoped it wasn’t too hard on him.

Steve tried to sit in silence, but he began feeling anxious after only a couple minutes. There was no soft beeping in the background anymore. Bucky was physically stable enough to ditch the monitor. Steve felt uncomfortable without some kind of noise. He wanted to reach out and touch Bucky’s arm. He wanted to brush the hair out of his face. He wanted to tell him everything would be ok. He started to realize how much he craved Bucky’s touch, and he worried that he was letting his feelings grow too much. He felt selfish, like he was letting his feelings become more important than Bucky’s healing. He shouldn’t be focusing on his desires while sitting next to his friend who was clearly having a difficult day. He took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind.

Bucky shifted a little and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He sat there, looking at his lap. His hair still hid his face. Steve stood up to move his chair out of the way, assuming Bucky was trying to get out of bed to use the restroom or something. But before he could turn to move the chair, Bucky reached out and grabbed him around the stomach, pulling him into a tight hug. Steve was caught off guard, and he hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms around Bucky and holding him there. Bucky’s breath was hot on his chest, and Steve could feel him shaking a little.

“Run away with me, Steve,” Bucky said.

Steve paused, “What?”

“Run away with me. Let’s get out of here. We can find a place to go, just you and me. We won’t have to deal with this, with Thanos, with the doctors, any of it. We can just, for once, live normal lives.”

Steve was taken aback and completely lost for words, “Bucky, what are you talking about? Why are you saying this?”

“Steve, these doctors, they can’t help me, not here. I want to leave. I want to have freedom. This lifestyle, fighting and killing and being a superhero… it’s not healthy. I can’t live knowing I’m stuck here. I can’t let other people play with my brain anymore, and I can’t get better in a place that constantly reminds me of everything that happened. I want to leave, but I can’t leave without you. Please… come with me.” Bucky was talking so quickly, so urgently. His tone was pleading, and he looked to be on the verge of tears. He squeezed Steve tighter, and he shook harder than before.

Steve’s mind was racing. He couldn’t leave. He finally had the courage to come back. To leave again would be to abandon everyone here. It was the ultimate selfish decision. However, Bucky sounded so desperate. He was terrified to stay here, and Steve knew he was right. Recovery would be incredibly difficult without a step away from all of this superhero madness. Bucky needed a break from this environment. He had always just wanted to stay out of it, to be left alone. He had always wanted to return to an easy, normal life. He more than deserved it, too. Steve felt his heart being torn in two. How could he be asked to make this decision?

Bucky grew impatient in his silence. He pulled away from Steve and cupped his cheeks in his hands, wincing a little at the pain in his shoulder. Steve felt such a stark contrast between the warmth of Bucky’s flesh hand on his left cheek and the cold metal on his right.

“Please, Steve, please. Please don’t ask me to stay here. I can’t do it.”

His voice pierced right through Steve’s heart. Steve just shook his head in Bucky’s hands, stuttering and incapable of giving an answer. He could feel something stirring deep down in his gut. It was a familiar feeling of wanting to escape this lifestyle. Steve knew there was a part of him that felt the same way as Bucky. He wanted to live a normal life free of this burden to save everybody. Now that he had Bucky back, he could do that without being driven mad by his own loneliness and guilt. He felt a shift inside of him as he came to the realization that he too needed out of here. Bucky was entirely right.

“Ok,” he said. He hadn’t even intended to say it. He wanted to ease into this decision, to give it a fair amount of thought first, to make sure it was best, but the word slipped out before he even had a chance to think.

Bucky let out a relieved huff and thumped his head against Steve’s chest. He began to cry, and his fingers slipped from Steve’s cheeks.

“Thank you. Dear god, thank you,” Bucky said through the sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so much in store and I'm very excited to write on!
> 
> Let me know what you think! How will this pan out? Do you think they'll be able to leave everything and everyone behind? Will it work? Will they be able to catch a break? How do you feel about their decision?


	12. Day One

Steve packed his things in a duffel bag. Bucky didn’t have any clothes of his own, so there wasn’t much to take. They decided to leave in the middle of the night. There was no way Steve could just tell everyone they were leaving. The doctors wouldn’t let Bucky go until he was finished with treatment, and they would face objection from everyone else too. He couldn’t handle that right now, and he didn’t want Bucky to feel any worse about his need to get away. Plus, Steve was worried that any push back from Tony, Natasha, or Banner would make him change his mind. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t hurt Bucky. Leaving in the night would be easiest. After they found a place to settle in, Steve would contact his friends here to explain everything. He knew his plan wasn’t mature at all, but he felt like he really had no choice.

Around two in the morning, Steve took his duffel bag out to his pickup truck. It was dark and quiet in the lobby, and so he proceeded down to the medical wing. He made sure there were no doctors in the hall when he went to Bucky’s room. Bucky looked exhausted, but he was sitting up in his bed. Steve helped him to his feet and checked the hallway one more time before they made their exit. Once they got outside, they jogged to Steve’s truck. Steve put the key in the ignition and looked to Bucky.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

“Let’s go,” Bucky said in a very final voice.

Steve turned the key, and the engine growled and sputtered to life. He spared no time before driving away, hoping no one had heard or seen them leave. He waited until they reached the main road to turn on the headlights.

They drove for a long time in silence, and it didn’t take long for the reality of their actions to set in on Steve. This really was it. There was no going back now. He clenched his jaw and, for a moment, wondered if he had made the wrong decision. He told himself over and over that this was the best thing to do. He had to stick with it, but he imagined the doctors checking in on Bucky and realizing that he was gone. He imagined the others being notified and going to Steve for answers. When they found out he too was gone, what would they think? Would they worry, or would they understand? Would they feel betrayed and abandoned, or would they not even care at all? Steve felt it becoming too much. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles hurt.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his arm and heard Bucky’s soft voice, “thank you, Steve.”

He exhaled. He had to stay strong for Bucky. He had to relax.

Bucky scooted across the seat and leaned his head on Steve’s shoulder.

“It’s all going to be ok, Buck. We’re going to get through this,” he said, although he wasn’t entirely convinced.

Sometime in the next couple minutes, Bucky started to fall asleep. Steve knew because his head kept slipping off of his shoulder, but finally he unbuckled and laid across the seat with his head against Steve’s leg. It looked uncomfortable. His upper half was crammed into the width of the seat and his hips twisted awkwardly so that his legs could still be stretched out on the floor. All that mattered was that he was resting, though. Steve turned on the radio but kept the volume low enough so that it wouldn’t bother him.

They had a long drive back to Steve’s old apartment.

 

* * *

 

After three hours of driving, Steve passed through the first supercity. He nudged Bucky awake to explain to him how the world had changed in the last year.

“Is this where we’re staying?” Bucky asked while looking out the window in awe.

“No,” Steve replied, “We still have a long way to go. Before I went back to the headquarters, I lived in a smaller city. Most of the people there fled to supercities over time. I was thinking we could stay in peace there, at least for a little while.”

Bucky nodded quietly and kept gazing at the skyscrapers that surrounded them in their little pickup.

Bucky was quiet for most of the ride. They stopped at little run-down gas stations a couple times. Once for gas, and the rest of the times it was only to stretch. Steve was growing incredibly weary in the last 100 miles. He hadn’t slept in over 24 hours, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten something. _Just a little further,_ he kept telling himself.

Finally, Steve pulled into his old parking spot. It still stood empty, along with most of the lot. He grabbed his duffel bag and led Bucky up to his old studio. When they got to the door, he pulled his old keys out of his pocket. He hesitated there in the hallway. The last time he was here, he thought he was going to kill himself. And the last time he left, he never thought he was coming back. Why did he come back here? This place was full of a whole year of bad memories. Yet here he was.

He took a deep breath and unlocked the door.

Bucky stepped inside. “It’s nice,” he said in a relaxed tone. “This place is yours?”

“Yeah. I’ve been staying here for the last year. I know it seems pretty old, but we can fix it up. It’ll be more homey after we make it ours.”

Bucky looked over his shoulder at Steve and smiled. His eyes looked tired, but they crinkled at the corners, and for the first time, he looked genuinely happy. Steve hated this place, but the thought of living here with Bucky made him feel so much better about it.

Steve put away his clothes, and he snuck the pills from the drawer into his jacket pocket. He would throw them out before Bucky found out about them.

“We should go out to get you some clothes,” Steve said.

“After you rest,” Bucky replied.

Steve remembered that he was, indeed, exhausted. He took off his shoes and sat on the edge of his bed. Bucky stood at the window, looking out over the buildings and trees surrounding them. Steve laid on his side facing away from him. He only wanted to rest, but as soon as his head hit the pillow, his body betrayed him, and he fell into a deep sleep.

 

* * *

 

_Steve dreamt he was a child again, small and scrawny. He needed braces for his legs to help him walk. He dreamt he was on a train, although this was not any train. He saw Bucky, dressed as a soldier, with his hair cut short. There were bad men on the train, and there was a lot of shooting. Bucky held a large round shield with a star in the center. Steve was standing in the middle of the train car. Bucky was at one end, ducking behind the shield and shooting at the bad men on the other end. The bullets seemed to pass right through Steve’s tiny body without hurting him, yet he still felt the need to run and hide. There was a loud bang and the side of the train car was blown off. Shrapnel flew everywhere, and there was now the sound of metal scraping on metal. Bucky dropped the shield and walked to the open side of the car. Steve felt scared for him, and he tried to run, to pull him away from the hole, but his legs were shaky and they would not move. It was as if the braces held him in place rather than helping him to walk. He looked down and pulled at the metal that bound his legs, willing it to give so that he could step forward._

_He looked back up and saw Bucky, now dressed all in black with a mask covering his nose and mouth. His hair was long and tangled and whipping violently in the wind from outside the train. Bucky stood there, only inches away from the edge of the hole, staring back at Steve. His eyes were glassy yet full of hatred. Steve felt a coldness in his stare that pierced right through his heart. He still could not move._

_Suddenly, Bucky was dressed in a white cotton t-shirt and grey sweatpants. His shirt was soaked in blood, and there was blood dripping from his flesh hand. He held out his forearm for Steve to see. There was a long gash running from his wrist to his elbow. His hair, even longer now, still whipped in the wind. His gaze was still threatening. The bad men at the other end of the train began shooting at him again, and the bullets tore holes in his shirt, but he didn’t even flinch._

_Bucky looked out of the hole in the train, and he leaned out to look down. The wind thrashed at him, seeming to pull at his clothes. Steve screamed, begging him not to jump, but Bucky looked back at him one more time with his menacing eyes, and he took one step forward and then fell to his death._

_Steve covered his face with his tiny hands. He wailed, crying and calling for Bucky. The braces disintegrated, and his legs crumbled beneath him. He hit the ground with a thud, and when he opened his eyes again, he saw Peggy there looking at him. She was holding a hand out to him to help him up. He grabbed onto it. His hand was tiny in hers. He was only six years old. She looked down at him and smiled tenderly._

_“Where is your mother, sweetheart?” Her voice was warm and soothing. Steve had been crying. He was lost. His mother was there one second, but when he turned around, she was gone. Now he was here, alone and scared, and Peggy Carter was here asking him where she went. He didn’t know. He wanted his mom to come back. He was so scared. He rubbed his eyes and started to cry again. His legs were shaking without his braces. It was a miracle he was standing at all._

_A shadow came over him as a very tall man approached. Steve wiped the tears from his eyes to see who it was. It was Tony Stark. He approached Peggy and put an arm around her waist._

_“Honey, you shouldn’t be talking to people like him.” He kissed Peggy, and then he looked down at Steve with a disgusted face. “These kids all grow up to be killers. He killed Bucky Barnes. He pushed him from a train. He killed my Pepper too.” Peggy looked horrified, and then she too looked at Steve in disgust. Steve wanted to tell them that he didn’t kill Bucky. He would never want to hurt anyone. But he was only six years old, and his word meant nothing. Tony leaned over and whispered in Peggy ear, and they burst out laughing in an awful, pitying manner, and then they walked away, leaving Steve alone again._

_“Steve?” A voice came from behind him. It was a painfully familiar voice. He wanted to turn to see who it was, but his body was completely frozen in place. He felt the cold metal braces on his legs again, but this time the braces extended upwards and covered his whole body, even pressing into the sides of his head._

_“Steve! Steve! Steve!” the voice grew more desperate and pained, but Steve could not see who called to him. He knew that voice, but he just couldn’t pin it down. It was right at the edge of his brain, but the face belonging to the voice kept evading him._

_“STEVE! STEVE! STEVE!” the voice turned to a horrible violent shrieking, and it rattled in his head and made his ears feel as though they were going to bleed._

_Something hit him so hard in the chest that it knocked the air from his lungs, and everything went black._

 

* * *

 

Steve woke to the sound of birds. Bucky must have opened the window. He couldn’t recall what he had just dreamt of, but he felt like he had been asleep for too long. Judging by the light in the room, it was early morning. He felt fingers twisting thoughtlessly through his hair. He rolled over, and Bucky quickly pulled his hand away. He looked wide-eyed and a little embarrassed, as though he hadn’t realized Steve was awake.

“Hey Buck,” Steve mumbled with a smile.

“Sorry,” Bucky stuttered. He sat on the bed beside Steve with his back against the wall. “I just.. uh-”

“Sorry for what? It was nice,” Steve said. He rolled over more and put his head against Bucky’s thigh.

Bucky’s cheeks turned a little pink, and he reached down slowly to touch Steve’s hair again.

“I like your hair this way,” he said in a careful tone.

“I’ve always liked your hair too,” Steve reached up to touch the tips of Bucky’s hair.

Bucky suddenly pushed himself up off the bed, and Steve worried that he had gone too far. Bucky stammered a little bit and then turned away to the window again where he was earlier, “So is there a place we can get some food? I’m kind of hungry.”

Bucky refused to make eye contact with Steve, and he let his hair shield his face.

“Yeah,” Steve replied, trying to sound casual, “there’s a little grocery store down the street. It’s within walking distance unless you’d prefer to drive. There’s also a clothing store in the same parking lot.”

Bucky nodded, “Walking sounds good to me. I’m pretty tired of being in a truck.”

Steve stood to get dressed.

“Steve?” Bucky asked quietly, still facing the window.

“Yeah?”

Bucky turned and held out his hand with several bottles of pills.

“Are these yours?”

Steve hesitated, “Yeah, Buck, they were mine, but I was going to get rid of them now, ok? I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep them around.”

“Because of me?” Bucky asked, “or because of you?” His voice made Steve feel vulnerable, like Bucky could see into his memories of almost taking a whole bottle.

Steve sighed and lowered his head, “Buck, I’ve been through some tough times myself. I don’t want to talk about it though. At least not right now.”

Bucky seemed a little hurt, but he just nodded his head. He held out the pills, and Steve took them, tucking them back into his jacket which was laying over the metal chair at the table.

 

* * *

 

The walk to the store seemed long and uncomfortable. Bucky seemed to be more closed off, but Steve himself felt a little exposed. Bucky looked through the racks of clothes in silence and picked out a few t-shirts and pairs of pants. Steve paid for them at the register, and then they went to the grocery store, picking out enough food to restock the apartment for a few days.

On the walk back, Bucky finally spoke up.

“I’m sorry I went through your things. I wasn’t trying to snoop. I moved the jacket, and I heard the bottles. I shouldn’t have pried. I just got worried. There were a lot of pills.”

Steve’s heart melted. He understood what it was like to be worried about someone so close.

“It’s alright, Buck. I get it. I wasn’t trying to shut you out. I just didn’t know how to react, and I felt like it wasn’t the best time to talk about that.”

Bucky nodded. They were both silent for a moment, with only the sound of their footsteps to fill the air. Bucky nudged Steve lightheartedly. “Can I make you breakfast to make up for it?” He asked in a sweet voice.

“I guess, but I judge on presentation just as much as quality,” Steve joked.

Bucky chuckled, and it made Steve smile as well. He was so ready to just start a new life with this man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this story may not have the most solid plot, but all the angsty and fluffy moments hopefully make up for it.


End file.
